Free The Old Men of Omi by I. J. Parker Page A

and nimble feet. They labored as porters and bearers, carrying heavy loads on their backs, or as sailors, taking boats up and down the shores of Lake Biwa, or they took cargo by land in wagons or with pack horses. It was poorly paid work and very hard, but it was abundant and they all hoped to save a little by living in shacks or in one room in row houses so that some day they might buy a little bit of land.
    Tora was familiar with them. Their dreams invariably came to nothing as the years passed and a large family, or drinking, or gambling consumed their savings. But a poor peasant whose land had been stolen by greedy monks and who was about to be put in bondage with his family might prefer even this hopeless existence.
    The poor, mostly women, children, and the old, treated Tora with respect, and his questions eventually led him to one of the row houses. The last unit of this was the home of the porter Kinzaburo.
    He walked into tragedy.
    Children squalled inside. When Tora lifted the rag that served as a door and looked in, he saw two small children and a screaming baby lying in its mother’s lap. The mother cowered in a corner, her face bloodied and her body shaking. When she became aware of him, she started wailing. The small space looked as though a battle had raged in it. Broken crockery, torn clothes, and blood stains covered the dirt floor.
    He was still staring, aghast, when a shrill voice behind him demanded, “Haven’t you done enough, you filth? Leave her alone.”
    Tora turned and saw a bent old woman peering up at him from dim eyes. She held a stick in one trembling hand and waved it in threatening manner.
    “Go away! And may the gods smite you!”
    “What’s happened here, grandmother?” Tora asked, raising his hands to show his innocence.
    She lowered her stick a little. “Who are you? What do you want?”
    “Lieutenant Sashima, in the service of Lord Sugawara. I came to talk to Kinzaburo. Where is he and what’s happened?”
    “The animals came down from the mountain and got him. And that’s not all those assholes did.” She shook her stick. “Look at her!”
    “You mean the monks? From Enryaku-ji?”
    “I don’t mean Onjo-ji. They’re holy men.” She peered past him into the room. “See what they did to her, poor girl? And her with a small babe.” She poked Tora with the sharp end of her stick until he stepped aside and let her pass. Waddling over to the cowering woman, she said, “Come, come, Keiko. Pull yourself together. They’re gone and the children are hungry.”
    The woman responded with another heartrending wail.
    “All right, Keiko,” the old one said firmly. “Enough of that. Get up now and let’s see what the bastards did to you.” She bent over the sobbing woman and pulled her up.
    Tora turned away. It was clear that Keiko had been raped.
    The old woman muttered softly, and gradually Keiko answered. There had been four of them. Kinzaburo had tried to fight them. Three of them had beaten him unconscious and dragged him out of the room. The fourth had told her to get the children ready. They were to return to their farm and work there. Then he had left. She had started to gather their few things, weeping all the while. When the three who had beaten up her husband returned, she was ready to go with them, but they had other things in mind and had taken turns raping her. Then they had left again.”
    Tora cleared his throat. He was hoarse with anger. “Is she decent, grandmother?” he asked.
    “Yes, yes. What do you want from her? Hasn’t she suffered enough?”
    Keiko knelt on the floor, her face bowed.
    “Forgive me, Keiko,” he said and cleared his throat again. “I came to help. I’m sorry I was too late. Do you have somewhere you can go with the children? Somewhere where those animals won’t find you?”
    She shook her head. “We’ve only been here for two weeks. We don’t know anyone.”
    The old woman said, “Well, you know me. Leave it to me. I’ll